


Comes with the Territory

by innusiq



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins in "the present" with flashbacks to a time period immediately after filming of <i>The Social Network</i> has ended.  This is a story about Jesse's transition from day to day filing life back to his normal everyday life in New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comes with the Territory

**Present**

It is not difficult to see that he doesn’t live a typical young Hollywood actor's lifestyle. Granted, he doesn't really live in or near Hollywood itself, but the point is there's no mansion estate with more rooms than he would ever know what to do with. There is no fleet of vehicles sitting ready at his disposal, which in all honesty he doesn't even really miss since he much prefers crossing the busy town he lays claim to as home on two wheels powered by his own two feet. There are no endless late night parties to drink into oblivion, or walk-in closets filled with a plethora of trendy fashions that per piece cost far more than the average person makes in a week's salary. In short, he is so far removed from _typical_ Hollywood that some days it doesn't even feel like he has any connection to such a superficial world. While some might find it hard to believe how mundane his life really is, how he treasures the days where he simply gets up, feeds the cats in residence, and putters the day away either reading a book, finishing up another on-line course towards his degree, plugging away at the most recent play he's been writing or even catching up with his family. Those people, the ones who only know him peripherally through television talk shows and magazine interviews, and the characters he portrays on screen, don't really matter in the grand scheme of life, because the people who don't really _know_ him only see _Jesse Eisenberg_ , rising star who has acted along side a list of _Big Name_ Hollywood, soon to be on his way to being a _Big Name_ as well, when in reality he is just an obsessive-cumpulsive-socially-awkward-cat-loving-therapy-requiring-second-guessing-your-basic-average-Joe guy who just happens to have a career in acting. Quite the polar opposites he and his career are, but he can't say he'd ever really complain, except when he's being following by cameras while running to the supermarket, or the post office, or even while in line at airport security, but overall, it's not really all _that_ bad. Not really, and even in those awkward moments, he still has the presence of mind to be the ever polite gentleman his parents raised him to be, at least once the shock of people caring about what he does with his life off-screen wears off.

"Hey you," Jesse greets at the brush of a small, furry and warm body against his pajama covered ankle, effectively pulling him out of his internalization and wandering mind. "Hungry?"

The meow thrown up at him causes a calm to settle over Jesse, and he smiles and nods down at his living and breathing therapy before going to work preparing breakfast for them. When he sets the dish down on the floor, Jesse remains crouched down by the cat, stroking around its neck and along its spine, finding himself still surprised he's made such a _permanent_ commitment with this one. Then again, that is all a lie really since he knows exactly how he came to be a cat owner since it took less than a week of fostering this one before _he_ ended up being the one contacting the fostering organization, requesting to adopt the orange tiger tabby. 

**Day 1**

Respites between working on a movie and, well, not working on a move, tend to be a double-edged sword for Jesse. On one hand, he truly does love acting for a living, getting lost in the characters he's been hired to portray, giving his all and then some regardless of the pay that ends up in his bank account. While working on set of whatever film he is signed to, or traveling the globe to promote a film, he tends to become somewhat attached to the group of people he's surrounded by. They become his surrogate family for however long necessary to make it through filming and promotional battles, people who he otherwise would never have met if it weren't for the mutual project, but he's always grateful in the end because each one of them has touched and changed him, helped him to learn a little more about himself and life in a way he never would have thought of on his own, a reminder that there are still things out in the world he has yet to be exposed to and a million other things to learn.

The not working side of what he does, the between roles times, can be equated to a crash landing from space. One moment he's working with a purpose and goal, assigned a role and responsibilities, and doesn't have to think outside the head of his character, and the next he's freefalling back to where he began, hitting ground so hard his head is spinning and the tightness in his chest squeezes the breath right out of him. When _returning to Earth_ per se, he feels so completely out of his element that his own apartment, even his belongings, no longer feel like his own. It isn't uncommon on his first night's return to New York that he ends up sleeping on the couch, feeling more like a guest in his own apartment than its actual tenant. It also isn't uncommon for him to call up the cat-fostering program first thing in the morning after returning home because the last thing he needs in the wake of being constently surrounded by the same people day in and day out is being left alone. At least with a cat, or two, or three depending on the situation, he is given a purpose in his day-to-day functioning, responsibilities, a _role_.

In the wake of _The Social Network_ , his routine is no different, except that this time when he finally steps foot inside his apartment, after being away for so many months, it feels more like stepping into a vacuum of nothingness. His bags barely hit the floor in the entryway before he is scrambling to locate his cell phone and dialing a number he hasn't needed to call as much since being immersed in the _Facebook_ movie, but yet still has memorized and assigned to his speed dial number one. Even he can recognize that he hasn't been as _needy_ as he usually is when there is too much _free_ time on his hands for his brain to wander and over think everyone and everything under the sun. Jesse is surprised when it is Dr. Bertram herself who actually answers the phone on the third ring, immediately telling him to _breathe_ as a greeting (damn the caller ID), but he doesn’t question the how or why or even his luck, just follows her order. It helps, being told what to do, focusing on an assigned task, and she quickly follows it up with an added _and relax_. That one is a little more difficult to accomplish, but he listens and does and eventually, the room fills with air, and his hands stop shaking, and he begins to feel a little silly over having a panic attack by just stepping into his apartment, but then Dr. Bertram is talking again and he has to focus on the words she is speaking, realizing he spoke his last thoughts out loud.

"I think we both know it's not the coming home that is causing you to react this way."

He knows she's right, he knows this, but when he's in the moment, the middle of a panic attack, it's hard to remember the things he has learned from his many sessions with her. _Separation Anxiety_ , it's probably the worst thing for an actor to actually suffer from, what with the fact that as an actor he is essentially expected to bond with each new cast and crew associated with a new film project, that in the end he will bid a fond farewell to because in this day and age, actors rarely ever work with the same group of people twice. Yes, this actor thing was probably not the wisest of decisions he's made with his life, but it's a decision that he's too late in the game to change, not that he ever would change what he does or how he lives his life if he had the choice, but, yeah, he probably didn't think it all the way through really, not really at all.

"Jesse?"

"I, um, I… I'm sorry, what?"

Dr. Bertram sighs on the other end. "You haven't reacted this badly to the end of a project since your first big film role. I thought we'd made progress. What's different this time?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but then snaps it shut audibly, which he knows she can hear on the other end of the line, and he finds himself running the fingertips of his free hand against his pant leg nervously, corduroy. His hand clenches in a fist and he runs his fingertips over his pant leg again. Images and memories of too close spaces shared in the last couple months flood his brain. A touch on his arm with an accompanying smile, a hand at the small of his back with whispered words in his ear, and his personal space being invaded at any time, day or night, and him, amazingly, not really minding it all that much. The doctor remains quiet as he processes, waiting for him to work out his reply about the last few months (too few) and speak up. His throat tightens a bit more, and he has to swallow three times before it clears enough for him to talk. 

"A-A-Andrew…"

"I see," Dr. Bertram says, knowingly in Jesse's over-analyzing opinion, and he can hear her turning pages in the background. "Jesse, I am going to have my assistant put you down for an appointment this week. I'll have her give you a call later today with the day and time, does that sound good?"

Jesse nods his head emphatically before remembering that his doctor really can't see his gesture through the phone.

"Um, yeah, um, yes, th-that'll be fine, good really. Really good."

"And Jesse," she says before hanging up. "Perhaps a cat will help in your transitioning."

During his plane's descent Jesse was already formulating a plan to contact the fostering organization the next morning, what with the guilt of being away from home for so long already creeping in, but now, instead of waiting until tomorrow he calls them immediately after disconnecting from Dr. Bertram. They are on speed dial number two. He hasn't even fully entered the apartment yet, but this he knows cannot wait another minute. Surprisingly enough, they have one cat that just came in, _literally_. Having been a foster _parent_ to many other felines in the past, that and the _star_ thing probably working in his favor as well, they agree to bring the cat over to him in the afternoon. He ends up spending the next couple hours making sure his apartment, which was clean when he last left it, is still clean and that he has all the necessary supplies and accessories to properly care for a cat. Five hours later, his apartment's being buzzed and he finds himself a little excited about the prospect of having another cat around the house. He really missed having a cat around while off filming and right now, he really isn't looking forward to staying in the apartment _alone_.

"Hey Jesse," Sarah, a petite red head greets, cat carrier clutched in both hands, and her freckled nose crinkling as she smiles happily at him. "I see someone is in need of a little company."

He smiles embarrassingly, but he really doesn't take any offense to her comment, at least he doesn't think he does, or should. Stepping aside, he motions her in. 

"Yeah, well, you know, I, um, I just got back and thought why put off the inevitable?"

She laughs and smiles at him again, and it feels like she can read him without even trying by her smile that seems almost sad or pitying. 

"Well, he's a lucky guy this one," she comments, setting the carrier down, preceding to unlock and open the door to pull out the most beautiful orange tiger cat he's ever seen. "We inherited this guy from an elderly couple being moved to a Senior's community. _No Pets Allowed_. His name is Garfield."

The world, or at least his square foot of the world, comes to a screeching halt.

_Fuck_.

"Excuse me, um, did… did, um, did you just say… Garfield?"

Sarah laughs and nods. "Yeah, I know it's a little overdone and cheesy and so completely obvious, but what are you gonna do? If I were his owner, I totally would have gone with the name Nutter Butter…"

_Garfield? Seriously? Is this some sort of cruel, cosmic joke?_

"Garfield," Sarah says, acting all formal and proper. "Meet Jesse. Jesse, meet Garfield." 

Jesse stares at the cat, and the cat, who has the most amazing yellow and surprising endearing (Seriously? Endearing?) eyes, stares right back. He blinks at the cat, and the cat lazily blinks back. For a fleeting second, Jesse begins to think he can't do this, that this irony is the last thing he needs when he's trying to readjust to being alone again, trying to settle back into regular life, trying to forget about the _family_ he's been surrounded by for the past five months. More importantly, he's not so sure he can live with another Garfield, when the previous one had been so… _perfect_.

"Here," Sarah says, literally pushing the cat towards Jesse and there is nothing else he can do but reach out and take hold of the cat. 

_Garfield_ doesn't move for a moment, just crane's his neck and looks up at Jesse. He's surprised by how thin the cat feels, a thick coat of orange fur hiding just how sleek the cat's body is. Isn't that even more fitting? Jesse continues looking down at the cat, resolute in his mind that he is going to tell Sarah, much to his own displeasure, that he's changed his mind, that he can't do this, but then something unbelievable happens. The cat relaxes within his hold and the little motorboat inside its chest begins rumbling. After a few seconds of rumbles, and the cat inquisitively searching Jesse's face, the cat, _Garfield_ , finally stretches his head up and rubs underneath Jesse's chin, causing Jesse to release a surprised exhale. He quickly finds his resolve cracking, crumbling, and it's only then that Jesse decides the cat can stay. 

It's only temporary anyway.

**Day 2**

There are flashes of memory, or maybe just dream-thoughts, a wish perhaps, or even a desire, or a mix of all the above. Whatever the case, he can distinctly feel a heavy warmth pressing into his back, and a hesitant yet persistent touch at the back of his head, puffs of breath ghosting the shell of his ear with secret whispers of private words, nothing ever obvious or even leading, but shared jokes and something that is more than friendship, or at least more than what he is used to as being simple friendship. There is distant laughter with his own mingled in, and a blinding sight of the most infectious smile, one he can't help but return, facial muscles stretching beyond their limits. It doesn't last long though, because all of this, whatever _this_ is, is quickly chased away by fear and panic, feelings he is all the more accustomed to, with words spoken against his lips saying, _Jess, tell me to stop_ , but he doesn't. He can't. He can't speak, can't think, he can't even swallow, and then he's retreating, running, without knowing where he is running to or what he is running from, but with each step away he begins feeling more lost and alone and confused, not understanding why he is running when with each step he feels more and more miserable. In the distance he can hear faint ringing, obnoxious ringing, familiar ringing, and the pressure on his back is no longer comfortable, but pinching, or more precisely clawing, making him jump, and free fall, stomach heaving and heart lurching, pounding, leaving his body along with his voice.

Jesse jerks awake with a startled yelp, and breathing heavily. A cat jumps off his back, which explains his apparent dream or dreamlike thoughts, and the clawing. Jesse rubs his fingers over his eyes and sighs heavily, head falling back to the couch cushion feeling more exhausted than before he even crashed on the couch, even after a full night's sleep. Across the room he hears his cell phone beep, signaling a missed call, which obviously woke him in the first place. He groans unhappily, wondering briefly who could be calling at this hour, but he doesn't move from the couch, he doesn't move period, and his eyes focus in on the cat pleadingly looking up at him from the floor, expectant, needy, _hungry_.

"Rawr."

He continues laying there a moment longer on his stomach, cheek pillowed on one arm which he can't feel because it's _asleep_ , the other reaching down to scratch at the cat's head, _Garfield's_ head, who meets his hand half way, rubbing round his palm and fingers and arranging his smaller body so that Jesse's fingers tickle and scratch up his spine. Surprisingly, Jesse needs this moment, to slowly acclimate himself to waking up in his apartment, in his _home_ , alone. No more distracting noises coming from the kitchen being made by a certain British-American who had taken it upon himself to make sure Jesse ate a good breakfast in the morning (whether that morning began at 4 A.M., 8 A.M., or even the noon hour) before heading out to a set who knew how long they would be at. Then, the moment is lost quickly by Garfield nipping at his fingers in reminder, because apparently (or more obviously), he's been ignoring the needs of the cat for far too long.

"Rawr."

Jesse sighs dramatically, pushing himself up to a seated position to glare down at feline, but the glower doesn't last long when Garfield stretches up, front paws on Jesse's knees to rub his head against Jesse's hand. The eyes looking up at him hold concern, which is really ridiculous, because a cat can't feel concern, or emote it, or even understand it, but it's hard to argue against what that look says. Garfield blinks slowly up at him, head nudging at Jesse's hand again, and now Jesse is beginning to question his sanity because concern is exactly what he sees, there is no doubt about it.

Jesse scratches Garfield's head and smiles fondly. "Must be in the name."

Garfield purrs appreciatively, but doesn't allow the attention Jesse's dotes to last very long, hopping down and leading the way to the kitchen. Jesse follows behind, knowing it best to appease the feline first and foremost before attending to any need of his own. Garfield rubs back and forth against the back of Jesse's ankles, while Jesse pulls food dish and container from the cupboard. He smiles at the insistent brush of fur, and the purr reverberating up to him. This is exactly what the doctor ordered, Jesse thinks, setting the dish on the mat next to the water bowl, scratching Garfield's back once more before he walks back out of the kitchen, heading for the bathroom.

He is in the bathroom five minutes tops, enough time to relieve himself, wash his hand, and brush his teeth (avoiding the mirrors reflection at all cost). When Jesse opens the bathroom door he is started to find Garfield planted outside, staring up at him.

"Rawr."

"Hey," he returns, not exactly sure if that answers whatever Garfield seems to be inquiring about. 

Garfield does an about face, marching off towards the kitchen, but stops partway to turn back to see if Jesse is following. Jesse gives the cat a strange look, one eye squinting, half his mouth quirking up and shakes his head. He follows behind, and the cat happily continues leading the way. 

"Please tell me you haven't finished what I've already given you and are begging for more," Jesse says, not wanting to even think about cleaning up the mess of a rushed meal on a cat's stomach. He's had one too many fast eaters on his hands in the past and while he never holds a grudge on the furry little creatures who just can't help themselves, it's not one of the more pleasant aspects of caring for a cat. He stops short of the kitchen entrance, "What?"

The bowl is still full, and if he was a betting man, which he's not (his anxiety couldn't hand the pressure of the odds), he'd bet not one morsel has been eaten. "What, it's not good enough for you?"

He'd threaten that no matter how below Garfield's standards the food is he refuses to buy another brand until he gets the right one, but who is Jesse kidding? He'd barely make it an hour before worry and panic set in that he was starving the cat, and then he'd go out and buy each and every brand available and test them out until the right one was found. At least the task would get him out of the house and give him more of a purpose than waiting for the next project to come his way, and get his mind off of… certain things (people).

Jesse shakes his head and pads across the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal. It isn't until he is comfortably leaning against the counter, cereal bowl and glass of juice in from of him that he looks to his right as sees Garfield happily eating along side him. Jesse releases a startled laugh and can't believe his luck in finding a cat that makes sure he eats his breakfast too.

**Day 3**

"What are you doing?" Jesse inquires just inside the kitchen, staring down at Garfield who has a catnip mouse hanging from his mouth that is dripping wet, the water bowl next to him slightly discolored. "Seriously?"

It is in that moment his cell phone rings. Jesse rolls his eyes, not really annoyed at Garfield's antics but definitely surprised and a little more endeared to the feline. Leaving the cat to his _tea making_ , Jesse goes to locate his cell phone, last seen somewhere in the bedroom.

"Hello?"

"Jesse!"

Jesse's heart stutters, stops, and picks up its pumping at ten times its normal pace, and his breath hitches, but none of that could keep the smile that the voice causes, and he realizes quickly there is probably no way he is ever going to get over Andrew, no matter the time or distance between them, and he's not really sure what he is going to do about that, or can. Luckily he has that appointment later in the week with his doctor, so maybe she can help him figure it all out.

"My cat is British."

There is silence for a moment, and then laughter.

"Wh-What?" Andrew questions, laughing more.

Jesse sighs to himself and sits down on the edge of his bed. 

"I took in a new cat… he's in the kitchen right now making catnip tea with his water bowl and a drenched toy. Clearly he's British."

Andrew's laughing hasn't subsided, and as usual, it's just as infectious with miles between them as it ever was when they were only inches apart, and Jesse joins in. He's missed this, even in the few short days they've been apart. It's been a few days too many in Jesse's books, and while he's lived his life more without Andrew in it than with, there are moments when reality feels like he's known Andrew forever, and he's just waiting for him to come home.

"God Jess," Andrew begins, taking in deep breaths, in attempts to stop laughing. "You… I've missed you."

Jesse's chest hitches, and he takes a deep breath himself and sighs heavily, trying to relax his nerves that suddenly itch with an unsettled anticipation. It's a relief to know he isn't the only one feeling the separation and distance, but honestly, it doesn't mean anything really. It's normal for most people to miss a friend they've spent hours, weeks and months with, working their bones into exhaustion on a project, but that is just it, friends missing a comradery they had come to depend on to make it through. This is all completely normal.

"His name is Garfield."

"What?"

"The cat, his name is Garfield," Jesse clarifies, picking at a thread on his jeans that is sticking out of a particularly worn knee. "He came with the name, I didn't name him, he just… he came with it."

Andrew is quiet on the other end, no joke about the cat's name, or laughing, just silence. Jesse pulls particularly hard on the string and it breaks free. He rolls it between his index finger and thumb, waiting for Andrew to say something, anything, but even if he didn't say anything, Jesse would be content to listen to his breathing on the other end of the line.

"What's he like?"

"You mean other than the British thing?" Jesse asks, receiving a snicker from Andrew, which is one of the best sounds in the world to Jesse, especially when he is the one to cause it. 

"You do realize tea has branched out to being more than a British thing, yeah?"

"Fine, then he's a snooty-American-British-wanna-be," Jesse clarifies, proud again over the snicker he pulls from Andrew. "Though I am still holding firm on the full British ancestry. He reminds me a lot of you."

"Me?"

Jesse shrugs at first, until he realizes such a response is lost on a phone conversation, and replies. "Yeah… he… yesterday he wouldn't eat until I was eating. And then there is the tea thing…"

He doesn't mention the crazy long fur that sticks out everywhere, or the lean body hidden underneath, or those eyes…

"Hmmmmm," Andrew hums, and Jesse can just picture Andrew's mouth drawn up in a half smirk and his eyes slightly crinkled as if to say he thinks Jesse is adorable. "I think I like this Garfield."

Jesse looks down at the cat in question, one with a set of eyes blown wide with his own _self medication_ , looking as if Jesse made any sudden movement the cat would bolt out the door with no care of what was in the way to be knocked down. He laughs when the cat flops down on his feet, breathing hard, obviously having already torn around the other room before coming in here.

"Yeah," Jesse agrees, foot rubbing gently along Garfield's back. "I like him too."

**Day 4**

Jesse has his appointment with Dr. Bertram today, and spends most of the day out of the apartment, meeting up with a few friends and contacts, his agent too. He leaves the house at 8 A.M. sharp and gets to his appointment with exactly fifteen minutes to spare, the traffic being a little heavier than usual as there's more than one accident scene he passes as he pedals his way across town. They accomplish nothing more than reiterating what he already knows during their session, but as always, he feels better talking things out with Dr. Bertram. Even when there is no progress, not that there is progress to be made, he really is fine, really, but she never makes it seem as if the appointment has been pointless. In the end, he makes another appointment for next week to get back into a routine of sorts.

"See you next week, Jesse," Brenda, the receptionist, says with a smile and wave that Jesse returns with a half wave and a definite grimace.

By the time he finally returns home, it is late. The apartment is dark and he has to turn on lights to see where he is going, even if he knows the layout by heart. After taking off his shoes and dropping off his back pack next to the couch, Jesse heads into the kitchen to pour some cat food into Garfield's bowl and make a sandwich for himself. Usually the sound of the kibble bits hitting the bowl has Garfield making a beeline for the kitchen, but all is quiet within the apartment. Shrugging, he makes a sandwich, grabs a bottle of water and takes a seat at the small table just outside the kitchen that serves as a dining table and working space, depending on his need. 

There is still no sign of Garfield.

"Garfield?" Jesse calls out, expecting the cat to saunter out at his own pace, but there is no sound of movement anywhere in the apartment. 

Jesse starts panicking.

"Garfield?"

Jesse is up and searching. He looks under the couch, on top of the bookcases, in the clothes hamper, and in all the closets. He looks under his bed, in the bathroom, in the bathtub, and still there is no sign of the orange tiger cat. He even checks back out in the hallway, expecting to find the cat sitting lazily outside the door waiting to be let in but the exterior hallway is empty, leaving a rock sitting in the pit of Jesse's stomach. In all his time fostering cats he has never, ever lost a cat. Never.

He closes the door and leans against it, fear taking over the panic from before. He doesn't even know what to do. What if Garfield slipped out this morning when he left? There is no way, not in this city, he is ever going to find him. Garfield could be halfway to New Jersey by now… if he's even made it that far. The alternative… the horrible, horrible, mortal, alternative is too much for Jesse to even think about. 

Taking a deep breath, Jesse steels himself and begins walking back to the dinning room table to grab his keys, because even if it's impossible to find one cat in New York City, he isn't about to not try, but just as he grabs his keys and turns to head out, Jesse spots the illusive feline grazing away at his food dish, back to Jesse.

He doesn't know where the cat was hiding, and right now he doesn't care. Garfield is safe and sound, _alive_ , and not lost. Jesse releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and crouches down to scratch at Garfield's head but receives a hiss from the cat before he can even make contact with the fur.

"Garfield?"

Garfield goes back to eating and ignores Jesse.

"Garfield, don't be…" This time when he reaches out, Jesse receives a hiss and swat of claws, and quickly decides backing off is in order.

Jesse returns to his dinner, watching as Garfield finishes his food and then slinks off without even a look in Jesse's direction. He'd been on the receiving end of a similar cold shoulder a month into filing _The Social Network_ , a misunderstanding with Andrew that to this day Jesse doesn't understand, and even coming from a cat it hurts just the same. Unfortunately, he's pretty sure if he tries looking for Garfield he won't be able to find him, so Jesse finishes his dinner and makes a mental note to never leave Garfield on his own for an entire day again.

**Day 5**

Jesse wakes with a start at the feel of another body pouncing on the bed. His heart pounds heavily, his breathing labored by the jolt, and it takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light in the room, but once he does he finds Garfield sitting next to his head, catnip toy in mouth.

"Garfield?"

Garfield lays the toy down on Jesse's pillow and head butts Jesse's head with his own, purring like a motorboat and rubbing like there is no tomorrow. 

"Hey," Jesse says, laughing at the attention and begins scratching at Garfield's head, and ears, and neck, the purring getting louder, mouth dripping here and there in pure contentment. 

They spend the next fifteen minutes or so, maybe half an hour, with Jesse petting and scratching and doting on Garfield, and Garfield basking in each and every bit of attention being given. Garfield is flopped down on his side, allowing Jesse access to his stomach, and Jesse feels the most relaxed he's ever been since returning home. Truth be told, he hasn't felt this relaxed since being with Andrew and in that moment a decision is made, maybe even more than one decision.

"I'm sorry about yesterday too," Jesse says to Garfield, who looks up and blinks at him, paw reaching out to rest on the hand rubbing his exposed stomach. "I promise never to do that again." 

**Present**

Jesse stands, leaving Garfield to the food he knows the cat won't even touch until he himself has his own _bowl of food_ ready to eat. He is just reaching in the cupboard with the bowls when a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a chin rests heavily upon his shoulder.

"Hey you," Andrew greets, all sleep-warmed-comfort wrapped around Jesse, and Jesse can feel Andrew's warmth spread through his chest and can't help smiling, can hardly believe this is real.

It wasn't until the promotional tour for _The Social Network_ began that _this_ began. It took Jesse that long (and that many appointments with Dr. Bertram) to figure it all out, his feelings and what he wanted, and get the courage to even talk to Andrew about it. In the end, after all the appointments and pep talks, discussions with Garfield, and a few rehearsed versions of declaration speeches, it was Andrew who made the first move after a few stuttered attempts on Jesse's part to speak. In the end, it doesn't really matter who made the first move, just that they are now here, together, happy.

"Hungry?"

Andrew nods against his shoulder not moving an inch, and Jesse laughs again, pulling out two bowls.

"This would go a whole lot smoother if you let me go," Jesse suggests, not really in any hurry to eat, even if his stomach does growl a bit.

Andrew hums in his ear, still not moving.

"Garfield won't eat until we are both eating too," Jesse adds, knowing the guilt trip works every time because no matter how wrapped he is around the orange tiger's paw, Andrew is just as wrapped around the other.

"Fine," Andrew grudgingly lets go of Jesse, but not before placing a kiss on his neck. "Since when do we answer to the cat anyway?"

Jesse turns to look down at Garfield, who is watching them with something like amusement, or impatience, Jesse's not a hundred percent certain, from his spot next to his food dish, and replies, "Think it comes with the territory of being a cat owner."

Andrew snorts. "And when did I become a cat owner?"

Jesse shrugs. "He came with me."

Andrew nods, closing the distance between them, and gives him a chaste kiss that is no less reverent than the most passionate and hungry kiss they've shared before. It's warmth and love, trust and promise, and when Andrew pulls away, he's smiling, they both are.

"That he did," Andrew says, hand combing through Jesse's curls, eyes looking him over with wonder and gratefulness, maybe even a little awe. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Which is pretty lucky for Jesse, and Garfield.


End file.
